"It’s nice to meet you too, Ylva," Ofelia replied with deepening warmth, settling into a more relaxed stance, judging that Ylva was one who leaned far more toward friend than she ever would foe. Perhaps it was her naïveté showing, but she deemed the pale, solid, softly spoken mare as a good soul. At the fjord’s gentle empathising, Ofelia felt her heart twinge. "And I’m sorry." The words slipped out, and the small red dun mare dipped her head, even as her tiger eyes sought and held Ylva’s gaze. "I hope you find your way soon. To what it is you want, and what it is you need."
The smile upon her lips grows a little wistful as she nods, agreeing with Ylva’s description of the climate of Atlantis. She remembers the sweltering nights when the heat had been almost unbearable, and, unable to sleep, she’d found herself gravitating towards the sandy beach of the Shore, where – with the sky shining with stars and a salty cool breeze tousling her red mane as she’d stood at Xiomara’s side – she’d known happiness, and had not doubted that she belonged.
Something that Ylva said struck a chord within the paso fino’s mind, and she seemed to perk up a little, a flicker of resolve glinting in the depths of her bright eyes. "Tinuvel?" A pause, in which the lines of her face creased in thought "I’ve never been there – the only other island I’ve visited is Luthien – but I know someone who used to live there some time ago." And deciding to take the help that the kind fjord mare freely offered, Ofelia tried not to allow the hope bloom within her too quickly, lest it only wither in disappointment if this promising new lead may only prove to be another dead end.
"I’m trying to find her. Maybe you know of her?" Ofelia was alone, and for all the bravery and courage she’d mustered, she could only get so far on her own. With a faint quiver in her voice, the little red mare spoke the name of the one she’d been seeking. "Xiomara."
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